In Which a Wizard and Sorcerer are Friends
by YesIEatQuiche
Summary: Howl and Rhys. A wizard from Ingary and a sorcerer from Bamarre. Both equally flamboyant, both somewhat unsure of themselves when certain ladies enter the picture. How they contrived to meet and help each other along in their respective stories. Bookverse
1. Prologue

In Which a Wizard and a Sorcerer Are Friends

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><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Howl and Rhys. A wizard from Ingary and a sorcerer from Bamarre. Both equally flamboyant, both somewhat unsure of themselves when certain ladies enter the picture. How they contrived to meet and help each other along in their respective stories. Bookverse.

**Disclaimer: This is a crossover of **_**Howl's Moving Castle**_** by Diana Wynne Jones and **_**The Two Princesses of Bamarre**_** by Gail Carson Levine **(Sorry Ella Enchanted fans, there is no separate category as of yet, so I have to put this here. I will move it as soon as the category is up.) I own neither. I do not profit.

**A/N: **I intend this to be a fairly short multi-chapter story about Howl and Rhys' various meetings. This is just the prologue, so be sure to leave me a review to tell me what you thought, if I should continue it, if it was dreadfully boring, etc. etc. I wrote it months ago, and I was going to post it _after_ I wrote chapter 1, but I am impatient to hear people's thoughts. So let me have 'em. ^^ Though I do want to mention the other chapters will be in third person, unlike the prologue. Just fyi. (I think first person is fun sometimes, don't you? And I was inspired by Susanna Clarke, so there.) Enjoy the ride!

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><p><em>Prologue<em>

Most people are under the misapprehension that wizards and sorcerers are one and the same. Ask any inhabitant of Ingary to describe the difference and you will be greeted with a blank stare from a person who most certainly doubts your intelligence. This person will continue to explain that Ingary has many sorts of "wizards": Mrs. Pentstemmon, Sorcerer Jenkins, Wizard Norland, Mrs. Fairfax, Wizard Suliman, Wizard Pendragon, and of course the infamous Horrible Howl and Witch of the Waste. He or she will set you straight: it is merely a preference of title. They are all _magical_ and that's what counts.

I must admit to having been under this fatal misunderstanding myself at one time. When I learned the truth of the matter, I resolved to set people straight. In actuality there are many classes of magical beings. These of course include – but are not limited to –sorcerers, sorceresses, witches, wizards, elves, nymphs, fairies, phoenixes, unicorns, centaurs, shades, dragons, specters, magicians, and warlocks. The only thing all of them have in common is that they can work magic of some kind. Not every land has every creature; Ingary, for instance, merely has wizards, witches, and fire demons. The land of Bamarre has everything from gryphons to dragons to fairies to sorcerers – but lacks wizards.

In fact, every land wizards inhabit is devoid of sorcerers and vice versa. It is no wonder, therefore, that the aforementioned confusions arose. To clarify once and for all, wizards are very much like humans, aside from being able to work magic (and aside from being infinitely cleverer and more handsome, but _that_ has been a matter of debate for years, and probably stemmed from some vain wizard himself). In all appearances though, wizards are humans – but with a magical gift.

Sorcerers, on the other hand, could never be mistaken for a human. Be it their white eyelashes, bony feet, or their natural state of flying, sorcerers tend to stick out. Moreover, sorcerers' years are measured differently from human years – sorcerers live much longer. Their matter of birth is simply bizarre: a sorcerer will spring forth in the rare occasion that granite is struck by lightning. Rather than possessing a heart as humans (and most wizards) do, sorcerers have their "sorcerers' flame" located above their breast bone. They seem to have a special affinity for weather and clouds (they were born from the sky in a sense) and require a baton to wield magic. Indeed, sorcerers appear so different that it has been argued that they should be classified under a different race altogether.

After considering these facts, I believe it may excite some curiosity to learn how a wizard and a sorcerer contrived to meet and become friends; thus I have resolved to put pen to paper and record their story.

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><p><strong>AN: **Reviews motivate me to actually write chapter 1. Heh heh ^^;


	2. Which is the First Meeting

_In Which a Wizard and Sorcerer Are Friends_

**A/N:** About time, eh? Don't worry I haven't forgotten about this. I've made a few interpretations concerning sorcerer's magic and training, nothing major though. I think this is my longest chapter EVER, so enjoy ^^

**Disclaimer:** See prologue. Still not mine.

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><p>Chapter 1 – Which is the First Meeting<p>

"Oh no Howl, here comes another one."

"Calcifer, I specifically told you to move the castle 500 leagues _east_. If you had, she wouldn't have been able to catch us!"

Howl huffed dramatically, waving his arms in exasperation. "Wait here. I'll go get the broom." Howl dashed up the castle stairs.

"Yes, as if I could go somewhere!" Calcifer shouted at Howl's back. "Humans," he muttered under his breath.

Calcifer surveyed the main chamber of the castle. It was a disaster. Honestly, Howl had only built the castle 3 months ago and it already looked like a swamp monster was its main resident. If only Howl weren't so averse to cleaning. Not that he minded the mess. He was a fire demon; he thrived on chaos.

Calcifer studied his sparks that danced around the interior of the hearth, without really seeing them. He hated being stuck alone with his thoughts in the early morning.

No, not even the discord of the room could change the fact that Calcifer was bored stiff. If only something would happen! Calcifer sighed, his blue flames expanding. Fine – he would help Howl, but just this once, and only because he was bored.

Calcifer sucked in a deep breath and swiftly shot up the chimney.

"Woo-hoo!" he yelled, sparks flying. It was one of those rare moments where Calcifer did _not_ regret making a contract with Howl.

Tiny blue flames poked out of the chimney. From this vantage point, there wasn't much Calcifer couldn't see. Sure enough, a woman was making her way to the castle. That she was able to keep up at all was most impressive. Calcifer wondered if she had purchased a spell. By the looks of it, the woman was in her mid-thirties. Her eyes blazed with purpose, exuding righteous anger. This wasn't good, Calcifer noted.

"Hooooowl!"Calcifer's yell echoed down the chimney. "She's getting cloooooser!"

Hurried footsteps resounded from below, followed by the clanking of a broom on the inside of the chimney.

"Calcifer! Get down here!" Howl nearly shrieked.

Reluctantly, Calcifer dropped down the chimney.

"You could ask a little nicer, Howl –" the end of Calcifer's complaint trailed off as he saw Howl. Howl had transformed himself into a lovely young woman. Well it wasn't the first time, Calcifer groaned. Howl gave his green dress a twirl.

"What do you think?" Howl asked in a tone usually reserved for trying on expensive suits.

"I think you're an idiot! Howl this won't do – that angry aunt will think that you and Howl are together! She'll kill you on the spot, and I'll have to fix this mess!"

Howl gave Calcifer a long stare. "Perhaps you're right," he relented at last. As he said so, his form shrunk. He was now a little girl in a green dress.

"Better?" he asked.

"Oh loads. Now you'll just look like a pervert. And do something about your voice."

"Of course, Calcifer. Master Howl has taught me how to do that spell," Howl responded in a sickly sweet voice, putting on the apprentice act.

A fist pounding on the castle door put an end to the glaring match Howl and Calcifer had been having.

Howl waltzed calmly to the door and wrenched it open.

"Yes, ma'am?" Howl asked sweetly.

The woman looked taken aback at being addressed by a young child. Her features softened slightly.

"Hello dear. Could you tell me where Horrible Howl is?" She forced a smile.

"Master Howl is out at the moment. Please, come in." Howl beckoned the lady inside, offering her the only stool in the messy room.

"I'm here for, that is I wish to talk about –" The woman paused, wondering how much was necessary to tell this innocent child.

"You are here about Miss Julie, right?" Howl began. "I like her. Howl does too. I'll go get him right now. You can talk to Calcifer while you wait." He gestured to the fire demon.

"Oh. Alright then…" The aunt eyed the fire demon warily. Calcifer returned the glance, hoping this wouldn't lead to someone dripping on him.

Howl walked purposefully to the castle door. Turning the handle so the black blob faced up, he glanced back to Calcifer in the hearth. After giving him a meaningful gaze, which Calcifer interpreted as a get-me-far-away-from-here-or-else! glare, Howl turned the handle, stepped into the inky blackness, and was gone.

The lady had already begun to babble about "Poor Julie", and Calcifer was forced to pretend to listen. Perhaps this was why Calcifer did not concentrate on the spell. Perhaps he was angry at Howl for forcing him once again to clean up his disaster of a love life. Whatever the reason, after Howl had disappeared Calcifer could not be sure where he had sent him. He was fairly sure it wasn't in Ingary.

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><p>"Rhys! You have to come see this!"<p>

The young sorcerer was lying on his back on a bench outside the Sorcerer's Citadel. He gazed at the fluffy clouds floating by, longing for the day he could transform them into whatever he fancied. Orne's Introductory Magick tome that lay page-down on his chest was long forgotten. He turned lazily toward his fellow student.

"You mean something interesting is finally happening?" Rhys sat up, intrigued.

"Apparently we have an intruder – come quick!"

The boy rushed off, with Rhys not far behind.

Intruders where rare in the citadel; the aura of magic was supposed to keep outsiders away. _In fact, _Rhys thought, _this would be the first_.

His excitement rising, Rhys quickened his pace.

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><p>"Unhand me, you fools!"<p>

Howl, long since back to his real form, surveyed his surroundings.

Things did not look good.

He was surrounded by no less than fifty magical beings, all of who seemed to be in agreement that he was not welcome. Several of them were hovering above the ground; all of them wielded batons. Howl could scarcely believe it – had he stumbled upon a coven of _sorcerers_? He had never seen one before – they didn't exist in Ingary (or in Wales) – but he had read about them in the books of the renowned Wizard Norland. Howl exhaled deeply. Leave it to Calcifer to dump him from one mess into another. In fact, he almost wished he were back dealing with that abominable aunt. _Almost_.

"Are you a specter?"

Howl spun around and studied the sorcerer who spoke. He was one of oldest men there. Realizing something, Howl scanned the crowd quickly. He was right: all the sorcerers were males. Howl gave them all a look of pity – how did they _live _here?

"Answer the question, fiend."

It was the same old man who addressed him, in the same old monotone. The man, and everyone else for that matter, was dressed in drab, dull colors – Howl was immediately struck by the resemblance to a monastery, and bit back a laugh.

"I don't even know what a specter is, my monkish friend."

Howl stole a few glances at the crowd again. Most of them seemed younger, apprentices maybe. He also remembered that sorcerers could only manipulate the weather, and they needed their batons to do so. Howl smiled. The odds were in his favor; he could take them easily.

"Then what are you? You are not welcome here."

"That's none of your concern," Howl replied flippantly. "I was just leaving anyway."

Howl made a tentative move to the right, which the old man mirrored.

"I am afraid it is not that simple. Outsiders are not permitted to see the Citadel. You will be detained for further questioning. Now come quietly, or we shall use force."

Howl threw back his head and laughed. These measly sorcerers, trying to defeat him? Howl rose up in the air, accepting the challenge. He reveled in the gasps of surprise from the sorcerers and the furrowed brow of the old man.

He would win.

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><p>Rhys sprinted into the courtyard, coming face-to-face with utter mayhem. Winds at such high velocities that they could only have been summoned by sorcerers ravaged the open space. A crowd of sorcerers was encircling a tall, brightly dressed man who Rhys assumed was the intruder. Several groups of sorcerers were in the air, his teacher Orne among them, attempting to beckon the clouds to come join the fight. The flamboyant man was laughing, seemingly unconcerned that he was hopelessly outnumbered. Rhys watched in awe as the man kept hoards of sorcerers at bay by shooting fire from the palms of his hands. <em>Who is he?<em> Rhys wondered.

Just when Rhys thought Orne's brigade had the man trapped in a circle of impenetrable storm clouds, something odd happened. One loud, foreign word broke the relative silence and caused all the sorcerers still on the ground to march away hurriedly. The flying sorcerers, in turn, flew away from the man against their will. With no one controlling the clouds, the man was free.

The spell carried Orne close to where Rhys was standing, slightly dumbfounded.

"Rhys!" Orne called. "It is up to you to stop him, now." He was swept away before Rhys could answer.

Rhys eyed the stranger warily. His attire was so colorful and stylish that Rhys was reminded of, well, himself. The man was surveying his surroundings, unaware that there was one sorcerer in the courtyard who was not under his control. In fact, he seemed about to leave; Rhys briefly wondered if he should just let him go. But Orn, his stern teacher, had entrusted him with this task and Rhys did not want to fail him. Plus, if Rhys was the one who captured him, the Elders were more likely to let him speak to this curious man afterwards.

Rhys meditated on his course of action, determination setting in. Rhys had the element of surprise; the man did not know he was not under his spell. Carefully, Rhys took out his baton and summoned a small snow cloud towards him. Cloud in hand, he flew toward the man. By the time the man realized Rhys was there, it was too late. He spun around just in time to see the cloud thrown in his direction, which quickly engulfed him. With a lazy flick of his baton, the cloud froze, trapping the man inside.

The other apprentices, no longer under the man's spell, cheered while the Elders (led by Orne) grimly took the prisoner to the dungeons.

While Rhys wondered how soon he could talk to the prisoner, he was swarmed by admirers.

"That was amazing, Rhys!"

"He never saw you coming!"

"How'd you think to do that? They haven't even taught us how to freeze things yet!"

Rhys smiled modestly. "Just practicing a bit on my own, that's all."

The other apprentices' eyes shone with admiration and awe.

"You'll be assigned to a kingdom in no time," bright sorcerer named Geoffrey said. Geoffrey was the closest thing to a real friend Rhys had at the citadel. The other boys admired Rhys too much to truly be friends with him.

"Not before you, though," Rhys laughed.

After a few more deflected compliments and some careful weaving through the remaining crowd, Rhys made his escape. Once inside the citadel, he quickly descended the staircase to the dungeons.

The Elders seemed to be waiting for him.

"Ah, the hero of the hour," Orne said with a wry expression that could nearly be called a smile. Though Orne didn't say it, Rhys got the feeling that he was impressed.

The others began making similar comments, but Rhys cut them off.

"Has he said anything?" he asked.

"We can't get much out of him," the Elder called Zed replied. "He's in a foul mood. Apparently doesn't like losing."

The others smirked.

"He will only say that he is being chased by a fiendish woman," Orne said mysteriously. Rhys, who had heard of Orne's famous lectures on women (though had not yet had the honor of receiving one himself), knew what Orn must be thinking – that _all _women were fiends.

"Can I talk with him?" Rhys asked in a rush.

Orne regarded Rhys; Rhys met his gaze and stared back.

"Fine," Orne said, surprising Rhys and the other Elders. "Perhaps he will speak freer with you."

_Because you are different. _

Rhys knew this was Orne's reasoning. He _was_ different from the other sorcerers in the citadel. A free spirit. A nuisance, the teachers might say. If that quality allowed him to speak with the prisoner, then so be it.

Elder Zed unlocked the door for him. Rhys crossed the threshold and turned to close the door. Before it shut completely, Orne spoke to him.

"You will be taking private lessons with me from now on, Rhys."

"Yes, teacher," Rhys replied.

He couldn't decide if that was something to look forward to or not.

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><p>The dungeon door slammed, startling Howl.<p>

"I _told_ you, I have nothing left to say. Unless of course, you've decided to let me out of this blasted magic-free room."

No response.

The shuffling sound of someone approaching.

Curious in spite of himself, Howl turned toward his visitor.

"You!"

It was the very same sorcerer who had taken him by surprise earlier, thus landing him in this horribly drab dungeon.

"Yes, me," replied the boy. "I'm Rhys, a sorcerer," he said cheerfully, extending his hand.

Howl eyed him warily. Something was different about this one – something aside from his colorful clothes (thank goodness _someone_ knew how to dress in this place). Howl found himself trusting this young Rhys, despite the fact that Rhys had landed him in this dungeon in the first place.

"I'm Howl Pendragon," he replied shaking Rhys' extended hand. "I'm a wizard."

Rhys' eyes widened. "We don't have wizards in Bamarre – that's why everyone was so confused," he explained. "Do you have sorcerers where you're from?"

"In Ingary? God no," Howl replied, a little taken aback by Rhys' forwardness.

"Hmm. And I'm sorry about earlier, I had to follow my teacher's orders. But I can persuade them that you aren't dangerous and they'll let you go," Rhys said eagerly.

The boy is very talkative, Howl noted. However, he couldn't bring himself to mind.

"A common misunderstanding."

Rhys beamed at him, happy to be forgiven.

"Actually I was thinking we could learn a lot from you, and vice versa. Your magic is really something! How'd you do that fire thing?"

Howl spoke vaguely at first about the magic, but after realizing that Rhys was truly interested, his explanation became more explicit. Rhys listened with rapt attention that Howl found impressive for someone his age.

"How old are you Rhys?"

"Seventy-five." Rhys laughed at Howl's questioning stare.

"Sorcerer years are different," Rhys explained. "In human years I suppose I'm around sixteen."

_Only a few years younger than me_, thought Howl, who had just entered his twenties.

"So tell me about yourself, Rhys. What's it like here?" It was rare that Howl took an interest in people besides himself (excluding the girls he pursued), but this young sorcerer intrigued him. Howl wondered vaguely if this was what it felt like to have a friend – he had nearly forgotten the feeling.

Rhys' smile seemed to falter. "Well, I don't have much to compare it with. When the village I was born in found me after the lightning storm, they brought me here," Howl nodded in comprehension, knowing the curious manor in which sorcerers are born. "All sorcerers must stay here until they are assigned to a kingdom. And after that assignment most sorcerers just return to the Citadel to teach," Rhys sighed.

"But not all do?" Howl prompted.

"No," Rhys said with a smile. "And not me. I want to do something different."

"I'm sure you will, Rhys," Howl said encouragingly.

A bang on the door interrupted their conversation.

"Rhys, what's going on in there? Has the prisoner overpowered you?"

Rhys and Howl exchanged a glance, and began to laugh heartily.

"Nothing to worry about," Rhys said loudly, still chuckling. "I'm coming."

He turned towards Howl. "I'll talk them into letting you go, but they may want to ask you a few more questions before you leave."

"I'm much obliged," Howl nodded in appreciation.

The two stared at each other for a moment.

"Do you think you could come back sometime?" Rhys asked hopefully, breaking the silence. "Things can get rather dull around here. I promise I won't let them throw you in the dungeon again."

Howl almost said no out of habit, but then stopped himself. Rhys seemed to take a genuine interest in him – something that did not happen often; there weren't any wizards Howl's age to talk to. The few friends he had had in Wales had all but forgotten him by now. And lately, Howl had noticed the growing sense of void in his chest – something he feared had to do with his missing heart.

Perhaps a friend wasn't such a bad idea.

"I look forward to it, Rhys," Howl replied with a rare, genuine smile.

Rhys turned to go, but then paused, remembering something. "Oh, before I forget, who is this 'fiendish woman'?"

"A story for next time," Howl slithered out, for the first, but not for the last time in Rhys' company.

"I'll hold you to it," Rhys smiled, walking over the threshold. He would not forget.

…

…

…

_And so begins the unusual camaraderie between wizard and sorcerer._

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><p><strong>AN:** What did you think? I'm eager for feedback! This was a rather long chapter so I hope you didn't find yourself getting bored along the way. But if you did, be sure to tell me so I know what to fix for next time ^^ As always, if you find any grammatical errors that slipped my notice, please _please _tell me and I'll fix it.

If you review I promise the next update won't take a whole year like last time!


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